John Harrison's Requiem
by LunaAnatolia
Summary: "Is there anything you would not do, for your family?"- John Harrison. HEAD CANON based on the Star Trek: Into Darkness Official Trailer and Offical Teaser due to Benedict Cumberbatch's AWESOME voice over. **This is my version of WHY he's doing what he's doing, I have no idea what the movie plot will be just like everyone else ok** edited 21/3


ONE SHOT (?) **EDITED 21/3**

Ok so **I have NO IDEA what the actual plot of the new film will be**, this is COMPLETELY based on the trailers. This literally just came to me while I was watching them so I have obviously taken a lot of liberties with dates and such.

This is for my head canon purposes only, don't go into the film in May thinking this is real.

I am sorry in advance for the many feels.

* * *

_"Is there anything you would not do, for your family?" – John Harrison_

_Star Date: 2260.247 _  
_Earth Date: 4th September 2260 (Roughly two years after the events of Star Trek: 2009)_

John Harrison had always been an intuitive man. It had always been a source of many jokes among his friends that John Harrison was _never _taken by surprise; he just seemed to know. Most of his newer, American, Star Fleet Academy friends swore it was because he was British. However, John just knew he was just _observant. _It was one of the most noted factors in his being fast tracked into _special operations __training_ at the unusually young age of twenty-four, a lifetime ago.

There was no observation this time. No warning, notice, speculation, not even a feeling; just pure unwavering shock. It was a strangely warm feeling, but not the calm embrace of a lover or mother, more the choking heat of a fire that is burning up your oxygen, scalding your skin.

It had started in his throat as it stole his words, once quick and witty and _ever_ so charming, turning his tongue to lead. It had raged on down into the pit of his stomach. Crippling pain – _Harrison? Harrison breathe - _he doubles and lets a whimper claw its way out of his throat. Jaw clenched. Eyes screwed shut. Maybe not looking will erase the images. But it doesn't work. He knew it wouldn't. The grainy five second video feed is scorched into his brain, flashing behind his eyelids. They try and comfort him – _it was too far away, might not be the Faulkner _– but it is. He'd recognise that ship anywhere. Recognise it even as it is blown to smithereens in a supposedly neutral zone. There are whispers – _no survivors. Jesus Christ, do you think-? God knows what- Harrison's in shock _– but he blocks them out. He already knows.

They're dead.

Both of them.

Burning. Choking.

Like the oncoming rage of the unavoidable storm.

-0-

_Later_

Everyone seemed to be walking on eggshells around him, as though he is likely to explode at any second. They could be right, he wouldn't really trust himself if their positions were reversed, but they could try to be a little _quieter _about it.

After a hurried debriefing on facts everybody clearly already knew he had been given an 'undisclosed' amount of personal time. Dazed, John allowed them to take him back to his quarters and even make him a coffee before he snapped.

"Out." He mutters at the young Ensign. She has her back to him and it noticeably stiffens, but there is no obvious response as she shuffles out. One could almost mistake her for being meek but John knows – somewhere in the back of his long forgotten memories – that she is usually quite confrontational. Strange how people change when they pity you.

He sighs rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Perhaps a little too hard, it's not as though he will wake up. He already tried that. No, he wasn't dreaming. He wonders idly, that maybe this _is _waking up and he just happens to live in hell.

Just as he is about to collapse onto his bunk the green message light on the comm. set catches his eye. He knew all courtesy calls had been prohibited during his 'rehabilitation' so this message was undoubtedly important. He is almost relieved – he knows his dreams will not be pleasant tonight – and commands the computer to open the file.

"Pre-recorded message. Star date 2260.246 at fifteen-hundred hours. Ensign Evelyn Harrison. Open message?" the computer drones the titular message but to John, it may as well have been screeched. A message; from Evelyn on the day the _USS Faulkner _was lost. He was both filled with dread and somewhat hopeful as he sat before the comm. screen. Perhaps they had gotten onto one of the escape pods? Unexplained sudden shore leave? Something, anything.

He responds his affirmative and waits as the video message loads. His palms are clammy, his throat constricted for what feels like the millionth time in the past few hours. The first hours of his personal agony.

They had been married barely half a decade and already they were separated. And now, not just by galaxies and star systems.

He had been reluctant to take the transfer offer some months before, having to leave what he had only just really found. But it had been an opportunity. A good one at that and Star Fleet had assured him that he need only be stationed there for a year at most. So he had taken it, said his goodbyes and flown off to the great unknown. Going bolding where no Harrison had gone before. He smiles wryly, although it is more a grimace now, the feeling already uncomfortable and unwelcome. Evelyn had always smiled in the face of desperate times.

-0-

"Video ready." The electronic voice jolts him from his thoughts. With his shaking hands clenched together in desperation he plays the video. All at once he knew his hope had been futile.

She is there, sitting fairly calmly in her Star Fleet issue med-bay uniform, although the blaring orange warning lights betray her incredibly British aura of togetherness.

"John? If you're watching this you've probably already heard." She takes a shuddering breath. "We were with the fleet fifteen minutes ago, but there were Klingons and we have minor damage so-" a dainty hand pressed against shaking lips. "They left us. A scapegoat I suppose, oh God."  
She shakes her head. The usually neat chignon of dark curls is coming undone. John leans towards the screen as though to tuck a strand behind her ear and flinches. _Christ _it hurt.

She laughs suddenly, and he wonders if it sounded half crazed, but all in the same second decides he doesn't care. Her laughter had always been sweet ambrosia to him.

"You always said I was silly for dreaming of the stars, do you remember?" she blinks and drops of crystalline tears mar her cheeks but are ignored. "But you weren't going to stop me. That day in London, when you finally swallowed your bloody pride and proposed I'll never forget what you said." She takes a breath and a sob escapes.

The overhead lights dim and the alert goes to full amber and the warning sirens begin to blaze. He can just make out a call for 'all personnel' in the background, but Evelyn doesn't move.

"You were adamant; _my dear, if you want to go chasing starts then I'll be right behind you, always. You and I_. Oh God, John, I'm sorry, you we're right. We should have got that house with the fence and the chimney, and that dog and that vintage car that would just never run right but you'd love it all the more. And I'd stay at home and be the good little wife your mother wanted me to be and- oh" A definite sob this time, her words become choked, thick with emotion, "and we'd have all the things you wanted."

Her door buzzer sounds, and she calls the person in. For a moment she is out of the range of the camera and John could have sworn his heart stopped. _Not yet please, not yet._ There is a hurried exchange of words. Evelyn returns, now burdened with their young daughter.

John quickly barks out for the video to be paused. All at once the tears he had kept at bay demanded precedence. The sight of his precious daughter, his sweet, innocent, _three year old_, destroyed all emotional barriers. With a howl he picks up the nearest object and throws it at the wall. He barely registers the spray of brown liquid that decorates the standard issue panelling as his mug shatters.

-0-

Of all the cruel and untimely jokes whatever is _up there_ could have decided to play this was certainly the worst. Why, after so long, would he be given so _many _gifts if they were going to be ripped from his grasp? And the worst part; it should have been him. If not for the transfer he would have been scorched by Klingons on the _USS Faulker_ with his family and the world would mourn for them, but at least he would never know this utter _agony._

He stares at the frozen image for a long moment. His daughter sits upon her mother's lap with a look of utter trust on her tiny face. Of course, in her world, whatever confusion she had just encountered would be fine now. Why wouldn't it be? She had her mother. She was safe. John puts his head into his upturned hands and sobs. The salty taste of his tears mixes with the metallic tang of blood. Blood? Oh. Lips. Numb, he touches he bottom lip and notes with mild surprise the red that returns on his fingers. This alone seemed to ground him, and exhaling he plays the video once more.

There is silence in the cabin for the longest second, Evelyn sits running her hands through her daughter's curls. She pulls her tiny body close, tucking her head beneath her chin. There the child can feel her mother shaking and a tiny frown causes her forehead to pucker.

"Mama?" Evelyn closes her eyes.

"Shh. It's OK. We'll be fine, mama will sing to you soon, hm? Then we'll both sleep a little."  
Pacified, the little girl begins to suckle on her thumb in silence. Then the first tremors start.

To John, it just looked as though the camera was unstable. But Evelyn looked terrified, and John berated himself for being so obtuse.

"I don't think there's much longer now, John. The Captain was trying for a ceasefire but.." she shakes her head with a small shrug. Her face contorts as she tried to hold back more tears, for the child's sake no doubt, but he can hear them in her voice. "I love you. So much. Don't ever forget that, and don't you _dare _ever regret a single moment of our time together. It was perfect. You were perfect."

The amber lights begin to flicker as the ships power drains. The recording jumps a few times. Evelyn reaches forward to shut off the comm. unit but a distant, garbled voice informs her of a 'hardware malfunction'. She looks with shock at the camera.

"Oh God. Don't think about it. Be brave." She mutters. He's not sure if she is speaking to herself, or him. She buries her face in her daughter's curls and begins to hum a series of familiar lullabies. The ship groans and shudders more violently now. Distantly, he can hear the screams of the _U__SS Faulkers_dying crew members. Evelyn hums louder.

With a final jolt, they are flying. No, not flying. _Falling. _The _USS Faulker_ begins to bank heavily to the left, and the cabin and all its contents are thrown violently into the panelling. The recording flickers in and out of scratchy lines to the decimated cabin and back again, although there is not enough time to make out any features. _Bodies._Finally, it settles on the grey static.

The sound is the last to go.

Faintly, John hears the final notes of _'Rock-a-Bye-Baby'_ as the recording ends. He knows, that merely minutes later, the _USS Faulker_ became nothing more than shrapnel floating aimlessly through the sector.

He has little energy left to cry, only burning eyes and a cold heart as he drifts into an uneasy slumber.

-0-

From then on, all John Harrison knew was revenge. He spent the next year uncovering more than a paltry few cover ups and other 'scapegoats' within Star Fleet. He would make them pay, one way or another, whatever it took. One by one the commanders and admirals that abandoned his family to the flames would fall, and John swore on Her memory that he would stand above. Victorious.

For many nights after, John Harrison thought he could hear the notes of Evelyn's last lullaby, whispering over the stars.

He's not entirely certain he imagines it.

* * *

There we go. This literally just popped into my head when I was watching the trailers. I'm sorry if I've like, made you think of him this way now because it may or may not affect how I see the film now. Goddamnit brain .

Anyway, reveiws would be appreciated. I'm always trying to improve :)

- Luna


End file.
